But even beyond this hope, which is the last for most men, the Pope had still another.

  “Else I avert my face, nor follow him
  Into that sad obscure sequestered state
  Where God unmakes but to remake the soul
  He else made first in vain:  which must not be."[A]

[Footnote A:  The Ring and the Book—­The Pope, 2129-2132.]

This phrase, “which must not be,” seems to me to carry in it the irrefragable conviction of the poet himself.  The same faith in the future appears in the words in which Pompilia addresses her priest.

  “O lover of my life, O soldier-saint,
  No work begun shall ever pause for death! 
  Love will be helpful to me more and more
  I’ the coming course, the new path I must tread,
  My weak hand in thy strong hand, strong for that!"[B]

[Footnote B:  The Ring and the Seek—­Pompilia, 1786-1790.]

For the poet, the death of man brings no change in the purpose of God; nor does it, or aught else, fix a limit to His power, or stultify by failure the end implied in all God’s work, nature no less than man himself—­to wit, that every soul shall learn the lesson of goodness, and reflect the devine life in desire, intelligence, and will.

Equally emphatic, on some sides at least, is Browning’s rejection of those compromises, with which the one-sided religious consciousness threatens the existence of the moral life.  At times, indeed, he seems to teach, as man’s best and highest, a passive acquiescence in the divine benevolence; and he uses the dangerous metaphor of the clay and potter’s wheel. Rabbi Ben Ezra bids us feel

  “Why time spins fast, why passive lies our clay”;

and his prayer is,

  “So, take and use Thy work: 
  Amend what flaws may lurk,
  What strain o’ the stuff, what warpings past the aim! 
  My times be in Thy hand! 
  Perfect the cup as planned! 
  Let age approve of youth, and death complete the same!"[A]

[Footnote A:  Rabbi Ben Ezra.]

But this attitude of quiescent trust, which is so characteristic of religion, is known by the poet to be only a phase of man’s best life.  It is a temporary resting-place for the pilgrim:  “the country of Beulah, whose air is very sweet and pleasant, where he may solace himself for a season.”  But, “the way lies directly through it,” and the pilgrim, “being a little strengthened and better able to bear his sickness,” has to go forward on his journey.  Browning’s characteristic doctrine on this matter is not acquiescence and resignation.  “Leave God the way” has, in his view, its counterpart and condition—­“Have you the will!”

“For a worm must turn
If it would have its wrong observed by God."[B]

[Footnote B:  The Ring and the Book—­Pompilia, 1592-1593.]

The root of Browning’s joy is in the need of progress towards an infinitely high goal.  He rejoices